cheers to the good years and broken bottles of beer
by ameriboo
Summary: We once hoped we would last. In a way, we will. —Ash & Misty; AU


**disclaimer: i don't own anything.**

**notes: OKAY SO! this is an updated version of "cheers to the good years and broken bottles of beer" because i wanted to add more depth to a certain part and just go all in with fixing some stuff up. this might not be your sort of thing because this does not take place in the actual pokeanime-verse but in a dramatic au where ash and misty are hopeless young adults with semi-sad lives. whatever tho! this might not even make sense but it feels right. **

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_**We once hoped we would last. In a way, we will.**_

On the front porch of his mother's home, they sat side-by-side alone smoking stale cigarettes. They were different. Her hair grew out to the middle of her back while he cut off inches of his own. It has been two years since they've last spoken to each other. There were postcards sent but no words shared between them. Just pictures of new adventures spent without the other. The wounds left by what happened to them were mending. Time healed the worst of it, but time only does so much. The two were brought back together in celebration of his mother's birthday. Both promised her to be on speaking terms as it was her only wish and they never could say no to her.

They loved each other for eight years.

On his eighteenth birthday, he drove off in hopes of traveling the world like he always talked about since they were young. Talking about their future, as if they had any clue that he would end up leaving everything behind in the dust. That moment she promised herself she would not follow; not this time. She waited an hour for him to come to his senses, to at least ask for forgiveness and for her to get in the front seat. An hour in the dirt and setting sun.

He never did.

It was just them, the silence of the night, and a small cloud of smoke dispersing into nothing. They both downed a few drinks during the party. Alcohol made the conversation easier for the sake of their weathered hearts. She skipped the small talk, after all, they weren't strangers and asked him if he was still traveling. She asked because she already knew the answer. Parts of her wanted nothing new of him.

"By tomorrow afternoon I'll be heading north," he said with a click of his tongue.

"Towards what exactly?"

He shrugged.

"A mountain to hike or some village to visit. I'll go anywhere I'm accepted," he told her, gripping his beer bottle.

"Are you still alone on these trips, Ash? Brock told me you guys spent some time together but that seems like forever ago. You should call him more, he misses you."

"I know," he responded. "I'm not the best at returning phone calls but I'll see him soon. I can easily say I'm never alone though; I'm always finding people to go on the ride with."

She scoffed. "Women included?"

He glared at the ground, filling his empty lungs with smoke. "I'm just trying to make memories with other people now, Misty."

He remembered foolishly thinking that two years was enough time to move on, that next time he visits the sea he can look out at the horizon and her name won't come to mind. He can learn new names and faces and not think about her. But time is not kind to those that leave everything behind. Time is constant. Time preserves memories deep within an individual with thoughts and feelings they cannot shake.

"I know that," she told him. "I know you are—but promise, _promise me_ that whoever you meet, tell them about us. Even if they're a young fool caught up with you. Warn them about what happens when people fall in love prematurely. Show them pictures of us at fifteen."

"Why fifteen?"

"Well," she breathed in, "I was ten when I first met you, and thirteen was when I knew for sure. We were fifteen when I told you I loved you," she said wistfully. "But sixteen was when we showed it."

He let out a curt, almost pained laugh. "I think sixteen was my favorite."

"It was mine too," she admitted, knocking her knees together. "But now we're older and I need you to let me know that even if you fall in love again please remember what happened to us."

It hurt him to talk about them. To remember and relive what they lost.

"How do you know I'm not in love right now, huh?" He questioned, his voice low and lips twisted. "I can have a girl back at the town over waiting for me and you wouldn't know shit, so stop acting as I can never love someone again as I loved you."

He expected her to raise Hell but she did not.

She didn't falter. She breathed in as her sea-glass eyes focused on the darkness of the sky above them.

"That's the thing," she paused, "you won't because people never love the same way twice."

"How do you know that?" he asked.

"Because I've been trying," she exclaimed, a hint of sadness on her smile. A bittersweet smile not of joy but acceptance.

Her frame looked smaller than he remembered. It stirred something in him. He almost reached over to pull her into his chest, to spill out every sin and prayer. He knew better to do such a rotten thing. If he held her once more, there would be no letting go. Instead, he took another brash sip of his beer and kept quiet.

"Look, I don't need you making the same mistakes," she voiced her wants. "What I need is to trust you to not break another person's heart. I need to know you'll be okay, with or without them. Whoever they turn out to be."

He listened to her request, heart open and exposed.

"Promise me you won't do the same thing to the next girl who loves you."

The glass shatters on the ground beneath them.

"Misty, I-"

"No!" She spat, turning to face him. "Listen to me—remember me at my worst, remember me yelling at you to come back and crying to your mom when you wouldn't. Remember the broken coke bottles I threw and how your hand felt tightening my wrist. Remember the distance. Remember that I loved you and that you loved me but what we had wasn't enough."

They sat in silence beneath the hazy night sky. The inner thoughts he kept from her sat on the edge of his numb tongue. Messy, frazzled words he wanted to yell but held back because he knew he had no right. In another life, a life where he had the heart, Ash broke the silence and cried out: "I remember it all. I remember that you were my first and how I just took for granted that I believed you'd be my last. I could never tell you then but it has made me better, loving you. Now, we are here and you're…guiding me to the next love of my life as if you know that we are hopeless. Why? Why can't it still be you and me? I know I am still the fool who left after the fight and you're still the one who owns a part of me that I am not meant to have again. Do you know you have it? Or did you leave it where you stood the last time we saw each other? I could never blame you if you did. You deserved more than the kid who took off in search of more. The universe screamed at me to turn around but I didn't listen. I thought you'd fight for me, for us. I know you're right (you always are) but please don't say that what we had wasn't enough; what we had was _everything_. I just didn't know. How is any dumb kid supposed to know a thing like that? We were just kids but I knew we were meant to be. We just…did it wrong."

In this life, Ash manages a concise, simple truth and tells Misty: "You know, I thought we would end up together in the end. Drinking lemonade as we watch our grandkids play in the garden, right under my mom's oak tree."

She laughed in a way that took him back to his youth. "So did your mom."

"You know there are still times that I look back at my rearview mirror and swear that you're standing at the end of the lot watching me drive off."

"And there are times I think maybe we'll meet again once we're older and our minds are less hectic, and everything will settle as the universe intended."

"You're such a romantic, Mist."

"Bite me," she quipped. "I'm pouring my heart out to you for the final time and that's your response."

He tensed up. He didn't like the way the final time poured out of her lips so easily.

"The thing is no matter what I say, sometimes you don't listen," she pointed out. "I know that there are people out there waiting for you to meet them and they won't be able to stop themselves from falling in love with you."

He placed his hands over hers as she continued.

"And maybe you'll find a pretty blonde, her eyes bluer than mine. She'll be so sweet that it doesn't take much for you to fall. So even if I warn you to remember what the world does to people like us that fall in love, you're going to do it again anyway."

She tilted his face sideways to face her. "That's who you are, Ash," she said with love, gripped his hand in her other palm. "You'll always go against the inevitable and I love you for it."

His eyes began to dwell with tears. Her smile was heavy with melancholy but just as sweet as he remembered. For a moment, they were eighteen again and life took them down a kinder path.

He let her wipe away his tears. "I'm sorry I left."

"I know."

"I'm sorry that I hurt you."

"Me too."

With a shaky hand, he reaches for her face. She leans into his hand, placing her palm over it as tears welled up between the both of them.

"I-if years go by, and we meet again, and we are less hectic like you said, I promise I wouldn't leave."

"If you did leave again, I promise to chase you like I should have done before."

They share a knowing smile.

"You taught me how to love, Misty."

"You always knew how to, Ash."

"I loved you, so much."

"I know, I remember."

For the final time, they laughed and cried under the stars as if they were out past curfew. The next morning, Ash was gone, driving down the same dirt path. Misty did not chase after him and he did not look for her at his rearview mirror. They both left their young hearts on the wobbly porch where they sat that night.

The years go on and at twenty-sixth Ash finds a girl to call home. Her hair is golden sunshine and her eyes are as blue as the sky. He sits her down, brings her a cup of tea, and asks her, "Serena, can I tell you a story?"

With that, they were mended.

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**notes: i hope the updated version was an improvement. if this is the first you have ever read this one-shot, i hoped you liked it! it was not intended to be an entire in-character piece but instead a romantic-based story of lost love which i (weirdly) think suits ash and misty. they are the heartbreak kids! i've read too much about young lost love to not apply it to pokeshipping (one of my favorite pairings of all time). if you dislike this story for that, i understand! please share your thoughts! xoxoxo**


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